


Matched

by MWolfe13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Masquerade, Universe Alteration, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26889784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MWolfe13/pseuds/MWolfe13
Summary: Perhaps the ball wasn't a total waste of time.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65
Collections: Roll-a-Prompt Writing Comp 2020





	Matched

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-A-Prompt 2020
> 
> Pairing: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin  
> Trope: Marriage Law  
> Theme: Masquerade
> 
> Note: Voldemort doesn't exist in this story, so no Wizarding Wars.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, simply playing in the sandox

_ How ridiculous. _

Hermione reluctantly lifted the mask to her face, tying the connecting ribbons tightly below her coifed hair. The mask, black in color with silver flower designs flowing across the surface, was the last piece of her ensemble. She observed herself in the mirror connected to her drawers. Her dress was formal, her heels added a bit of height to her small stature, and her hair was behaving under the gobs of Sleekeazy she’d massaged the curls in. All in all, she looked decent enough for the ball tonight.

_ What a waste, dressing up for an event she vehemently disagreed with. _

Her mouth turned down in a frown at the thought of tonight. She’d skip the festivities if she had a choice, but there wasn’t one. Every five hundred years, the Ministry held this grand party. Everyone would mingle and dance, business would be discussed, and the anticipation would ramp up until midnight. Then, an Unspeakable would cast a spell that partnered you with your ‘perfect match’. By that, they meant those that harmonized with your magic the most.

_ No one even gets a choice. _

It was true. Nobody got a say in whether they would attend or not; participation was mandatory. By law, the person you were matched with would become your spouse, magically bonded by the end of the year. No one knew the exact reason why this law was created and upheld, but those that grew up in the Wizarding world were happy to participate in it. They called her generation the lucky ones, blessed to make great strides in magic. 

_ What a bunch of mindless sheep. _

Even her best friends were falling into the madness. Harry was certain he knew who his match was while Ron was daydreaming about every unmarried woman in their graduating class. Her fellow Muggleborns were falling into the trap, romanced by the idea of a Witch or Wizard that made your magic tingle in all the right places. Only Hermione was questioning everything, much to the amusement of some and the annoyance of others.

How did the law come to be? How was the spell developed? If the person’s magic harmonized with yours, why couldn’t it be felt without the spell? Why only every five hundred years? How was the law's original record kept under lock and key, and  _ not _ in the records department with the rest? Her queries were met with shrugs and vague references to the Department of Mysteries. She’d had to stop because some complained about being interrogated by her, the Minister going so far as to stop by her cubicle in the DRMC and asking her to cease.

She’d thought about not complying, but that would have resulted in her wand being snapped. The threat wasn’t issued often, but it’d been mentioned offhandedly one day during the many discussions about the law. You didn’t want the partner magic deemed was for you? That was fine. You obviously don’t want your magic either. 

Now she was here, dressing in the room she always utilized in Harry’s childhood home. Only the unmatched would be in attendance. Harry had offered to escort her and keep her company until the matching started. It was more like he was ensuring she didn’t cause any trouble he’d have to fill the paperwork out for, but she appreciated the gesture. 

Glancing at the elegant timepiece on her wrist, Hermione released a long exhale and made her way out of the room. 

To her surprise, Harry wasn’t the only masked man waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Clad in a simple black mask, Sirius chatted casually with James Potter as he leaned against the wall. Hermione knew it was Sirius; she would recognize the hair anywhere. She’d forgotten he wasn’t previously married, so he’d also be forced into bonding tonight. 

“Should have married when you had the chance,” James was saying. He clapped the man on the back. “Now you’ll be an old man trying for his first kid.”

“Who’re you calling old?” Sirius’ hand shot forward and rustled James’ hair. “No way was I marrying before now. That’d give the old bat some satisfaction, may her soul rot in hell. I don’t even want to get married now. The bachelor’s life suites me.”

Hermione snorted as she finished descending the stairs, sharing a fond look with Harry. “Good to know I’m not the only one who thinks this is a load of tripe.”

Sirius turned at her approach and whistled low. “Look at you. Who knew there was a girl under all the books?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but then stepped away quickly when his hand reached for her hair. “Don’t you dare, Sirius Black! I’ve dumped a whole bottle of Sleekeazy’s on it.”

James rolled his eyes. “Lily has spells you could have used. You didn’t need to use that junk.”

“The biggest failure in our family,” Harry said. “Inventing a hair solution that doesn’t even work on Potter’s.”

“You’re all ridiculous. Can we go now?”

“You got it.” Sirius stepped away from his spot to grab his coat while Harry grabbed her cloak. “Have to get there and track down Remus. The bloke is bound to be getting shitfaced. Don’t need him getting that much of a lead on me.”

Hermione frowned as Harry helped draped her cloak over her shoulders. “Remus will be there?”

“Not married,” Harry reminded her. “Every unmatched British citizen was recalled to the country for this. He couldn’t ignore a summons from the Ministry.”

Hermione stayed silent when they left, letting Harry guide her to the apparition point. She hadn’t seen Remus since she’d graduated Hogwarts. He’d come to the party Harry’s parents had thrown for the Gryffindor class, but he’d left abruptly after. There’d been no explanation besides a vague excuse Sirius and James refused to speak about. She’d been hurt at the time, they’d had a lot in common, so they’d tended to gravitate towards each other during social functions. Now, two years later, he’d be there, and Hermione was contemplating ignoring him or taking the chance to catch up.

Well, more question him on his behavior, but that amounted to the same in her eyes.

Sirius went in search of him as soon as they arrived. Hermione looked around at the sea of masks. Some were elaborate, taking on the characteristics of animals while others had simple designs like hers. Everyone was dressed to the nines, the wealthier families dripping in gaudy jewels. Hermione’s eyes found the Weasley’s right away; the entire family save their parents gathered in a ginger cluster at a table. 

She didn’t see who she was looking for, noting that Sirius had completely disappeared into the crowd. She didn’t get a chance to break away and look for him herself, Harry tugging her in the direction of their friends. Hermione resigned herself to mingling and pretending to be at peace with this asinine statute.

It was as bad as she’d feared. All people could talk about who they hoped their partners were, or what traits they desired in their match. There was speculation of who would be matched with who-Hermione glaring Ginny’s way when she dared suggest Hermione would be paired with Malfoy. There was also talk of the recent scandal that had broken out only this week of a couple that married before tonight in fear they wouldn’t be matched.

Outwardly, she expressed her concern for the pair while she cheered them on internally. 

It wasn’t until hours later, when she couldn’t take it anymore and was getting some fresh air, that Remus found her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, his presence known as soon as he stepped into her space. “Hello, Hermione.”

“Remus.” Hermione turned her head to look at him. He was dressed in a tux, his mask silver with a crescent moon indent in the middle. Two wisp-like wolves dominated the sides, their snouts turned the moon’s way. She smirked. “Nice mask.”

His eyes rolled, his mouth tilting at the corners. “Sirius’ idea of a joke.”

She shrugged. “Only those of us in the know would get the reference.” She glanced away, scowling at nothing. “Though I suppose some of us don’t know you as well as we thought.”

Remus sucked in a small breath. “Hermione…”

Hermione bit her lip to stop the words from coming out of her mouth, but after reigning herself in all night, she couldn’t help herself anymore. “You  _ left _ , Remus. Without a word to anyone but your best mates. Do you know how worried I was for you?”

He sighed, “I had to leave.”

She turned to face him again, crossing her arms over her chest. “For what reason? You were fine one minute and gone the next. I don’t understand. That night, I thought…” Hermione closed her mouth, folding her lips inward so she wouldn’t say another word.

But Remus knew what she was talking about, his shoulders slumping. “That’s exactly why I left! I knew the signals you were sending me last night. I needed to leave before something happened that wasn’t supposed to.”

Hermione didn’t let on that his words cut deep; she refused to let the moisture enter her eyes. “A simple rejection would have sufficed, Remus.”

Remus laughed bitterly. “Except I didn’t want to reject you. Far from it.”

Hermione’s aggressive stance lowered until her arms were hugging her stomach instead. “I don’t understand… Why did you leave then?”

“I’m a Werewolf, Hermione.” Remus shook his head. “You know the stigma that carries in our society. I may not be out, but I can’t hold a steady job because of the suspicion that comes with my leave requests. I’m old, and I have nothing to offer you. I could hurt you without even meaning to. Getting involved with me would be the worst mistake of your life.”

“Are you kidding me?” Hermione uncrossed her arms to jab a finger in his chest. “I am of age, Remus. I can decide what mistakes in life I make, and I can certainly take care of myself. You had no right to take this choice away from us without giving me a chance to fight.” She stepped closer, her palms landing on his chest. “Don’t you see? I don’t care that you’re a Werewolf or that you go crazy during the full moon. I don’t give to figs what-”

Remus kissed her.

His mouth came down on hers, his hand fisting into her hair and undoing all the work she’d put into it earlier. His other arms banded around her, pulling her even closer, trapping Hermione’s hands on his chest. Hermione didn’t hear the Ministry official's loud voice gathering everyone around, too lost in the feeling of his lips on hers. 

She didn’t hear the voices, but she felt the way her magic rose from within her, reaching out to Remus and purring like a contented cat. 

They pulled away from each other, staring as their magic mingled and brushed the other before settling back down. 

They were matched.

  
  



End file.
